


Live and Die for You

by rhiannonwrites



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Fix-It, Grizzop Lives, Holding Hands, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Life-Affirming Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Scars, Self-Indulgent, Tender Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, but he got better, sensitive goblin ears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 10:15:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29607921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhiannonwrites/pseuds/rhiannonwrites
Summary: Grizzop leans forward and cups her face in both his hands, taking a moment to justlookat her. He doesn’t know how she brought him back, how he’s still here. But he’s not so sure that the ‘how’ matters, not at the moment. Just that he is here, and alive, and so is she.
Relationships: Grizzop drik Acht Amsterdam/Sasha Racket
Comments: 24
Kudos: 32





	Live and Die for You

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [[ART] Live and Die for You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29775321) by [areyouokaypanda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/areyouokaypanda/pseuds/areyouokaypanda). 



> Title from Belgrade by The Battle Tapes

He isn’t expecting to wake up.

He was _dead._

He’d felt the spears enter his body.

He’d watched as the world went dark.

He isn’t _supposed_ to wake up.

But for whatever reason, he does wake up, consciousness washing over him and bringing with it a wave of pain that slams into him like the spears that should have ended his life—that _had_ ended his life. The new scars that riddle his torso ache uncomfortably, but those don’t begin to compare to the throbbing pain in the back of his head and his throat. He swears he can _feel_ the paths where each weapon entered and exited his body.

Grizzop lets out a soft groan as he slowly becomes aware of his surroundings, immediately noticing a pair of arms wrapped around him, holding him close. It’s not exactly difficult to figure out who they belong to.

There’s no doubt in his mind that she’s also somehow the reason he’s still alive. It does seem like something she’d be able to break a few rules for. He’s not sure how he feels about that quite yet, but for right now all he cares about is making sure she’s okay.

Despite the pain that explodes in the back of his head from the sunlight streaming in from a nearby window, he squints one eye open. The first thing he sees is that she’s holding a knife, no doubt ready to wake up and protect them at a moment’s notice.

Grizzop tips his head back to look at Sasha. She’s sleeping, but it can’t be restful; her face is contorted into a pained expression, eyebrows knitted together and teeth gritted. He imagines that she can’t feel much better than he does. He doesn’t know exactly what happened to her after he went down, but he hadn’t been around to heal her and they hadn’t had many potions left, and knowing her, she’d probably used one on Cicero, if he was even still alive.

He’s about to reach out so he can heal her, but his stirring must wake her because, still half asleep, she slides her hand up to gently cup his head as she pulls him closer into a tight embrace and presses her forehead against his, mumbling his name. He presses back into her touch for a moment. “I-I’m here,” he murmurs reassuringly before pulling his head away just enough to look at her properly, letting his other eye slide open.

Her eyes flash open, immediately locking on his with such intensity that he’s sure it would have knocked him flat were he not already lying down; Sasha isn’t often one for making such direct eye contact, so when she does, it catches him off guard. She takes in a deep, shuddering breath as her eyes flit down to his throat, to the scar that marks the killing blow. The pain in her expression when her gaze meets his again nearly threatens to tear his heart in two. That hurts worse than the physical scars. “Grizzop—” 

“Morning, Sasha.” He offers her a weak smile. “I’m here,” he repeats, his voice barely a whisper. “I-I don’t know what you did. But I’m here. Promise.” Without breaking eye contact, he reaches back to grab her hand, holding it gently between both of his and guiding it so he can press a kiss to her palm, healing her as he does so.

Sasha lets out a soft sigh, the effect of the spell immediately clear in the way her face and shoulders relax. The concern is still there though. “Now yourself.” The tone in her voice leaves room for neither argument nor refusal, and he does so, relaxing as the pain that had been lingering through his whole body is relieved. Sasha gives his hands a gentle squeeze, offering him a small nod of approval, then pulls him back in to touch her forehead to his again, setting her knife aside to reach up and play with one of his earrings. The familiar touch is soothing, and he lets out a soft hum of approval, tipping his head into the feeling. “You’re here,” she murmurs, and he can feel her breath against his lips, warm and tantalizing. It makes him shiver.

All he’d have to do to close the distance between them is tilt his head slightly back and to the side, but Sasha beats him to it, a gentle tug of his ear guiding him into the right position and making the air leave his lungs in a soft moan as their lips meet.

It isn’t the first time they’ve kissed, but right now, after what they went through together—after he’s been dead and she’s brought him back and carried him to safety and watched over him while he recovered—it feels like it could be, the way it sends a pleasant heat running through his veins.

When she glides her hand down his back and lets her fingertips slip up under the hem of his shirt, he lets out a little hum of content into her mouth which turns into a startled gasp as she rolls him onto his back, propping herself up on one elbow above him. She pulls back just enough to murmur a soft “Y’alright?” against his lips, and he feels her smile when he answers by cupping her jaw and tipping his head back to deepen the kiss.

Sasha breaks away again a moment later to gently tug up on the hem of his shirt. “Yeah?” She asks. When he nods, she pulls him into a sitting position for just long enough to yank it off over his head, then gently pushes him back down onto the bed. He watches as her eyes flick over the scars on his chest, eyebrows furrowing together and mouth curving into a frown. Her gaze fixes on the one just below his collarbone; the one that had been meant for her. She lets her hand hover over it for a moment before gently grazing her fingertips against it. “You saved me,” she whispers. “I got hit and it should’ve hurt me real bad, and you did… somethin’? I dunno. Artemis magic, you said. But just… I looked up ‘n you were reaching out to me? And it made it so it hurt you instead, and it also made it so you couldn’t take those last couple hits, ‘n you were—” she cuts herself off with a sharp breath and takes a moment to collect herself. “You were _dead,_ Grizzop. You didn’t have to do that for me.”

“’Course I did, Sasha.” He puts his hand over hers on his shoulder. “You wouldn’t have been okay if I hadn’t, and I couldn’t—I had to, alright?” He offers her a gentle smile. “And you did a hell of a job repaying me,” he adds with a weak chuckle. “Not dead anymore, am I?”

Sasha frowns even more deeply at him, not saying anything as she runs her fingers across his collarbone to the scar on his throat. He shivers at the touch and tips his head back to allow her to find his pulse-point with her index and middle fingers, as if she still doesn’t quite believe it. Though he suspects she might have already checked more than once while he was unconscious. “See?” He asks after a moment, his voice shaking slightly.

“How do we know I didn’t fuck it up?” She asks, her fingers pressing slightly into the soft spot of his throat. “How do we know I didn’t just make you undead like I was?”

“You didn’t,” he says without hesitation. “You wouldn’t fuck up on something like that, Sasha.”

She doesn’t look _entirely_ convinced, but the confidence in his voice does seem to reassure her. She bends down to kiss him on the mouth again, before working her way across his jaw to nip gently at his earlobe. He shivers and holds back a sound, but then she bites down a bit harder and he can’t help the whine that escapes his throat in the form of her name. He brings a hand up to tangle in her hair, the other twisting into the bedsheets at his side. “Y’alright mate?” She asks. He can _hear_ the smirk in her voice, as much as he can feel it against his skin as she nibbles at his ear.

“I’m great,” he groans, tilting his head slightly to give her better access. His entire body shudders when she finds the most sensitive spot of his ear with her mouth, bringing her hand up to play with the tip of it. “F-fuck, Sash—” He’s cut off with a sharp cry when she wraps her hand around it and gives a gentle tug to make him tilt his head back. He shudders when she puts her mouth to the scar on his throat, her teeth grazing over the sensitive, newly healed skin.

She begins to suck at the spot just below his ear, making him keen high and loud. After a few moments, she breaks away with a satisfied little hum into his ear and slides her free hand down his chest to teasingly slip her fingers under the waistband of his trousers. “This alright?” She asks, pausing as she waits for his confirmation. When he nods again, she adeptly unfastens them and moves to pull them down along with his pants, exposing his already half-hard cock.

Sasha gives his ear another gentle bite, then sits back to pull his trousers the rest of the way off. He shivers at every contact of her fingertips against his bare skin. When they’re gone, she starts unbuttoning her own shirt with quick, nimble fingers. Grizzop tries not to look too eager as he watches, eyes drawn to each movement of those clever hands, but his ear gives a slight flick that betrays his interest as she shrugs it off, her shoulders flexing slightly. He allows his gaze to fall to the gentle curve of her breasts for just a moment, and when he looks back up to her face, her lips are curled into a slight smirk. After tossing her shirt aside without a care for where it lands, she makes quick work of removing her trousers as well.

Once they’re off, she leans back down over him and presses a kiss to his forehead. Then, in one fluid movement, she rolls over onto her back, pulling him with her so he’s straddling her lap, propping herself up on one elbow. Her other hand comes to rest on the small of his back and she pulls him close, and he tries (and fails) to ignore how his dick grinds down against her lower belly, leaving a trail of his slick behind. She looks away, gnawing on her lower lip, and after a moment of silence and Grizzop struggling to figure out what to do with his hands, she glances at him and says, “Y’know you can touch me if you want.”

He certainly _does_ want to, but instead, Grizzop leans forward and cups her face in both his hands, taking a moment to just _look_ at her. He doesn’t know how she brought him back, how he’s still here. But he’s not so sure that the ‘how’ matters, not at the moment. Just that he _is_ here, and alive, and so is she. Despite the odds, despite everything they’ve been through over the past few days, they are alive and together, and for what is essentially the first time since before they’ve met, they are both truly safe. They both know that this can’t last—that when this moment is over, they’ll have to figure out their next steps—but right now, they can ignore that and enjoy this bit of time they have together while they still have it.

He lets out a sharp gasp when Sasha slides her hand down to cup his ass, giving a slight squeeze. Her eyes light up with glee at his reaction and she offers him a wide, crooked (if somewhat nervous) grin—wide enough that it shows where her tooth is missing—and he feels his heart _soar_ with adoration, his lips curling into a small smile of his own. “Alright, Grizzop?” She asks.

“Y-yeah,” he stammers, gently stroking his thumb over her cheek. He quickly leans forward to press another kiss to her lips, letting his hands slide down to cup her breasts and giving a gentle squeeze whilst rubbing his thumbs over her nipples, reveling in the way they quickly harden under his touch. She lets out a quiet moan into his mouth, and he takes it as an opportunity to gently take her lower lip between his teeth and give it a slight tug before releasing it, leaning back to look at her again. Her eyes are half-open, lips reddened and gently parted. Grizzop has never denied to himself how attractive Sasha is, with her dark hair and eyes, all sharp lines and wiry muscle. But like this? _Gods, she is beautiful._

Grizzop lets himself look at her for just another moment, then bends over to kiss her neck, her collarbone, between her breasts, her stomach, following the line of the scar that runs down the length of her torso. He runs his hands down her sides to her hips, lightly dragging his claws over her skin. Finally, he settles himself between her legs, coaxing them further apart by letting his claws _just_ dig into her inner thighs.

He dips his tongue between her folds, just long enough to get a taste of her, smiling to himself in satisfaction at the quiet gasp she lets out. For a few moments, he only laps at her entrance, ears flicking at each little sound she makes. When he licks his way up to her clit, letting his tongue flick over it, she _whines_ , her hips jerking up against his mouth. It’s all the encouragement he needs to gently ease a finger into her and focus his attention on her clit with his tongue.

Slowly at first, he starts to pump his finger into her, matching each thrust with a flick of his tongue. He quickly learns how to draw certain reactions from her; how to make a soft gasp turn into a sharp cry; how to make her whimper and buck her hips up for more; how to make an inelegant string of obscenities come tumbling from her lips. At one point, she grabs at his ear to guide his mouth right where she needs him, and he nearly comes apart on the spot, a high, reedy whine escaping his lungs as he sucks on her clit.

As her reactions become less coherent, more desperate, her thighs tensing and trembling on either side of his head, he slides a second finger easily inside her and flits the very tip of his tongue rapidly and continuously over her clit. He lets his eyes fall shut in concentration, letting her noises and slight movements guide him towards her orgasm until she comes with a long, high moan, her back arching sharply off the bed. Her hand tightens almost painfully around his ear, making him cry out with her as he curls his fingers inside her to ride out her climax.

When she collapses back down against the bed, her breath slowly evening out, he sits up on his knees to look at her, resting his hands on her hips. “You good for more?” He asks, biting his lip as his ears perk up hopefully.

Sasha nods. “Yes—gods, yes,” she says, shifting her hips slightly to give him a better angle as she grabs him by the hands to pull him closer.

Grizzop doesn’t need to be told twice; he watches her face as he lines himself up against her entrance, and she looks back through half-lidded eyes, her lip caught between her teeth. He bites back a moan as he slides into her, his claws digging into the meat of her palms. She winces, but when he tries to pull his hands away, she tightens her grip on them. “Don’t let go—”

He looks at her for a moment before nodding. "Okay, Sasha," he says, then slowly relaxes and lets himself become used to the feeling of being inside her. He’s about to ask if she’s alright to continue, but a languid roll of her hips against his is confirmation enough, so he begins to meet her move for move. Their motions are awkward at first, but it takes less than a moment before they come as naturally as breathing, his narrow hips fitting perfectly against hers.

Neither of them lasts long. Grizzop, worked up as he is after taking care of her, in combination with how much she’d been touching and pulling on his ears, thrusts into her a handful of times before coming inside her with a wail, his hips stuttering a few more times until he feels her clench around him, letting out a cry of her own. Grizzop leans down to rest on her, laying his head down between her breasts.

After they’ve both caught their breath, Grizzop climbs up the bed until he’s straddling her chest and leans down to press his forehead against hers. “You alright, Sasha?” He asks, feeling himself break into a wide smile when he says her name.

“Fuck, Grizzop. More than.” She tips her head back to catch him in another kiss and slides her hands down his back and hips to hold his thighs, before breaking away to ask, “do you want to sleep more or go get something to eat?”

He’s still exhausted, but he hadn’t realized how hungry he’d been until she’d asked.

“Food,” he says without hesitation, sitting up and moving back to allow her to do the same. She nods, already pulling her shirt back on and tossing his to him.

“Food,” she agrees.


End file.
